


Guising

by Skimblyshanks (The_gadabout_gander)



Category: Cats - Andrew Lloyd Webber
Genre: Alternate Universe - Historical, Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - Victorian, Gen, Vignette
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-31
Updated: 2020-10-31
Packaged: 2021-03-08 19:09:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 582
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27321733
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_gadabout_gander/pseuds/Skimblyshanks
Summary: Brothers visiting family on Hallowe'en get ready for a night of Guising
Relationships: Asparagus & Skimbleshanks (Cats)
Kudos: 3





	Guising

**Author's Note:**

> Quick reference  
> Skipton-Skimbleshanks  
> Angus-Asparagus
> 
> Asparagus represents the ensemble character portrayed by Tony Timberlake in the 1998 film. He is distinct from Gus: The Theatre Cat, who is the boys' father.

October 31, 1874  
Crieff, Scotland

“Quit the squirming,” Angus instructed, steadying his brother with a hand on the boy’s cheeks. In his other hand was a small lump of coal plucked from the hearth, already staining his hand with soot. He brought it back up to Skipton’s face, and the nine-year-old promptly resumed his squirming, though it was far less effective now that his face was held firm. There was still a grimace, though, and a wrinkling of the nose as the rock came down on the bridge, however gently Angus may have applied it. Both boys were glad Skipton’s hair had already been slicked up and away from the face, courtesy of father’s pomatum, as it made the application of soot far easier the less hair there was to get in the way.

“It’s going to bruise,” Skipton whined as Angus pushed down harder across his forehead.

“No, it won’t,” was the only response, but Angus released Skipton’s cheeks for a moment, enacting a quick shift in his strategy. Rolling the coal between his palms, pressing down intermittently, after some moments the thirteen-year-old dropped the rock back into the hearth, satisfied with the mess on his hands. He promptly grabbed Skipton’s face yet again, smearing his hands up and down the boy’s cheeks; running them across his forehead. He took some steps back, admiring his work, scrunched-up though his model’s face may have been.

“Are you finished?” Skipton opened a wary eye.

“Almost,” Angus murmured, leaning back into the hearth, scooping up a handful of ash. Loosed particles in the air alerted Skipton to his brother’s plan, and he met the rising boy with terrified eyes.

“Angus,” his tone was guarded, “No.” Seeing the hands moving closer, he began scooting away. “I’ll tell father you were making a frivolous mess of the hearth. You’ll be in trouble. It’ll be the -ack!”

Laughter filled the parlour as Angus watched his brother attempt to cough up the ash that had flown into his mouth. It fell in a light coat over his face, with some having made its way into his hair. Skipton glared up at Angus, clearly struggling with ash that had gotten up his nose.

“Ah, don’t bother with pouting,” Angus tutted, turning his back to the petulant boy. “Father’d say the same. You can’t go guising without the full effect!” He glanced over his shoulder. Skipton met his look for a moment, only to scoot away, turning pointedly to show Angus his back; their father’s old, green robe already falling off his shoulders. Unfazed, Angus began moving towards his brother once more. 

“You don’t want ghoulies snatching you up while we go, do you,” he pressed, kneeling down beside the chair. “And we’re rather far from home, too, so, even if they were to let you go, they wouldn’t—

Angus couldn’t help but to throw his head back as a thick mass of soot and ash hit his cheek, gasping at the impact. He took some steadying breaths, coughing up what dust had flown into his mouth. He laughed, incredulous, turning to meet a very self-satisfied grin from a soot-handed brother.

“What’ll the ghoulies do with you, then,” Skipton asked in a sing-song tone. “Make off with half your face and leave the other here for me and father to make do?” 

“I’ve got an Uhlan,” Angus responded evenly, grabbing Skipton from under the boy’s arms and spinning him off and onto the ground. “But I’d imagine that’s about right.”


End file.
